


better luck next time

by orphan_account



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: (I Think That Tag is for RPF but I Don't Care Because it Fits), /lh, Alternate Universe - Hockey, Bad Puns, Brewer-Rose: The Hockey Family, Dumb Hockey Boys, Fluff, Future Fic, Gen, Like Worse Than Ted Mullens Bad, Not Beta Read, POV Alternating, Parent-Child Relationship, Patrick Brewer is a Goalie, Post-Canon, and David Rose is a Forward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:47:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28680576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Patrick takes David and their daughter, Abigail, to the Toronto Maple Leafs' practice rink on a free weekend as a surprise.
Relationships: Mentioned Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands, Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Kudos: 17





	better luck next time

**Author's Note:**

> there's a handful of important things i should inform you about before continuing to solidify the lure of this universe a bit, a universe that i have plenty of plans to continue:
> 
>   * patrick plays for the toronto maple leafs (i feel like based off the summary this was implied, but i'm clarifying regardless) in the goalie position as stated in the tags
>   * david does **NOT** play hockey professionally. his position is forward, however, and he is an announcer for the new york rangers
>   * their relationship is primarily long-distance although, on this particular weekend, neither team has a game on saturday, sunday, or monday, so david and abigail fly to canada together
>   * david and patrick's home together is in new york, so abigail (their daughter) lives there and is often babysat by alexis and twyla (of course i had to throw in twylexis)
>   * speaking of abigail, she is eight years old and has been with the two of them for three years
> 


**September 2023**

"Is that daddy?" Abigail asks, hips wiggling in Twyla's lap as she turns around to face the door. "I hope it's daddy." She swivels back to the television where her vision was directed earlier, pouting a bit and hunching her spine over in the process. Twyla uses her hand to lightly rub circles into the small of her back in an attempt to calm her down as she whispers small sentiments into he ear like _he'll be here soon_ and _you'll be okay_.

Even though Abigail is used to being away from David and Patrick, it's hard sometimes. Sure, Twyla and Alexis are basically a second set of parents; she loves them, she loves them a lot except nothing will _ever_ compare to her pair of hockey obsessed fathers. 

It's crazy to think Patrick is the reason behind David's love for the stick and puck game. He was studying to be a journalist prior to their meeting, however, the last place he expected to end up was Madison Square Garden. 

He couldn't be happier with the life he's created for his _husband_ and his _child_. Just the sole fact that he had a daughter was enough to bring him to tears. In fact, there have been a handful of nights where he's cuddled into Patrick's chest as the little spoon and cried, just cried and cried rivers worth of tears out of pure bliss.

This is what he's always needed, but never known he's wanted until it became a reality.

His top priority right now is Abigail though, and reuniting her with her other father. So, here he is, standing behind Twyla and Alexis' door pounding away as he waits for someone— _anyone_ —to answer. How difficult is it for his sister to unlock a handle? He has no time to mentally scold her further as he hears a small _click_ on the other side to be met with the sight of Alexis. "Hey, David!"

Abigail hops off Twyla without warning and running over to David. "Daddy!" He has no time to respond to Alexis' greeting before his legs are being hugged and the hem of his plain white t-shirt is being tugged on by a tiny set of hands.

David lifts Abigail up and sets her on his hip. "How are you?" He flashes her a sweet smile prior to placing a kiss atop her shoulder-length strawberry blonde locks that are braided into a set of pigtails. _Twyla must've done this,_ he thinks, _she always braids Abi's hair, and with skill as well. Twy really knows what she's doing._

"Good," Abigail grabs the back of David's neck and pulls at the small hairs underneath her fingertips, tickling them slightly in the process. "I wanna see pops."

He embraces her so she's flush against his body while sighing. "I know you do, baby, I do, too," He places a quick peck to her temple, Abigail leaning into the touch this time. David sniffles to try and hide his quickly growing emotions "We should get going, thank you for watching them, Twy. You too, Alexis."

"Text me when the plane lands!" She shoots as he's shutting the door behind him, but he hears. He's never forgotten to anyway. That won't stop her from reminding him, though.

He sets Abigail down on the ground and grabs one of her her hands, interlocking their fingers as they make their way towards the elevator. "I know we both miss Patrick, but do you think we could get some food first? We haven't had a daddy-daughter day in _forever_." She immediately nods vigorously, squeezing David's hand, a gesture she knows he adores from both her _and_ her pops. 

**🏒**

Abigial dips one of her crinkle cut fries into the vanilla flavoured milkshake in front of her, placing it in her mouth with poise. 

Patrick taught her that. He introduced her to the wonderful world of salty dairy and she was sold almost instantaneously after trying it for the first time.

"Do you like that?" David asks, Abigail cocking an eyebrow at him.

"You've never tried it? Pops hasn't made you?"

David giggles at the thought of her thinking about him and Patrick sharing a meal regardless of the fact that she's seen them eat together hundreds upon hundreds of times. "Well," He begins, Abigail resting her left cheek on her palm. "He tried to get me to on our first date." 

Abigail perks up at the mention of _date_. "You guys _dated_?!" She fake gags, something she picked up from her Auntie A.

"Abigail, were married, a date is nothing in comparison to that." 

She ponders for a moment in order to decide on what to say next. "People in my grade date. How old were you?" David's eyes widen at the thought of third graters engaging in romantic behaviours.

"I was 31 and he was 33. Who's dating in your class?" He asks, genuinely invested in the lives of her fellow students.

Abigail has a response almost immediately. "Kayleigh and Alan. Maya and Andrew, too. Ooh! So are Emma and Grayson," David plucks off a piece of his chicken tender and dips it into the ranch between two of them; they _always_ share condiments as family. "When did you know you liked pops?" He nearly chokes on his bite of food. _Wow, we're pulling out all the questions today, aren't we?_

Don't get David wrong, he's happy Abigail has questions and wants to discuss then with him, he just wasn't expecting their pre-airport lunch to turn into a therapy appointment with Abigail playing the therapist roll, of course. He takes a moment to think although there isn't much to think about. He already knows his answer and it's the same thing he told Patrick the night of the death in Room 4 of the motel: "I cared about him and respected him. I also thought he was nice and, while it's a basic word, I'd never used it to describe someone else before," Abigail smiles, taking a sip of her water. "I still care about him and respect him and think he's nice, for the record."

She laughs, the kind of laugh where your head goes back and you stare at the ceiling for a split second in the process. "I know you do." 

As if on cue, his phone rings, the name _Patrick 💛💫_ flashing across the top of the screen. He picks up right away, Abigail bouncing up and down in her seat. "Hey, honey," David greets him in the same way he does anytime his husband calls. "How are you?"

"Great!" He practically exclaims. "I'm just waiting for my lovely man and even lovelier daughter to get here." His tone falters with a hint of sadness hiding behind it. 

"We miss you, too."

"Where are you?" Patrick asks, David gesturing his head towards Abigail to toss the question towards her. 

They sit in silence for a moment, the sound of Patrick's breathing echoing through the empty establishment outside of the sporadic workers behind the register and in the kitchen. "We're at Velma's!"

Patrick laughs at the sound of her voice, the sound he misses more than anything in the world. "Well, hi, Abs!" 

Abigail smiles, taking the phone from David's hand even though it's on speaker and has been for their entire conversation. "We're heading to the airport after this." 

"Ooh," Patrick breathes out in a fatherly-teasing tone. "You should be daddy's new assistant with all this schedule talk." 

"Nobody replaces Stevie." David cuts in, tone serious as ever. Abigail lets out a chortle and Patrick follows suit. He couldn't help it; her laugh is contagious.

"I love her too much to replace her anyway." David smiles and, although he can't see Patrick's face, he knows he's smiling, too.

David snatches the phone back from Abigail as a pout emits from her lips at the loss of contact, but the space between her fingers is quickly met with another fry. "We'll see you soon, sweetie. I love you." 

After Patrick replies with his own testament of love, he hangs up and places his phone back in the pocket of his black leather jacket with color blocked white sleeves. 

"Why do you call him _honey_ and _sweetie_?" David was actually surprised this question wasn't asked by her sooner considering how often they call each pet names in front of her and how they even referred to _her_ with some of them on occasion. 

"When you love someone, you come up with little nicknames for them, like how pops calls you peanut." 

Abigail connects her right pointer finger to her temple on the same side. "Can I come up with a nickname for you?"

"Daddy is already a nickname."

She groans in annoyance. "No, like, the kind you have for pops and he has for me."

He's nervous to see what she has in mind but he continues the discussion regardless. "What're your ideas?"

There is a long drag of deafening stillness. "Uno."

"What?" David is confused to keep it blunt. 

"Uno, like number one, because you're my number one."

He can't help but feel a fondness grow in his chest, a certain tender warmth towards her. "Isn't that unfair to pops?" As much as he absolutely _loves_ the idea, it doesn't feel right to choose favourites even though they all know he's her top parent since they live closer together and therefore see each other more often as a result.

"You know he'd appreciate it." She says simply and David knows she's right; he'd feel the same affection towards the name.

Abigail crawls out from her side of the booth to slide in next to David. She wraps her arms around his waist, holding him tight. "What's this for?" He asks, but he's not complaining.

"I love you, Uno," She snuggles in closer to his side on the brink of falling sleep in the middle of the restaurant. "Let's clean up and drive over to JFK, okay?" She nods, yawning as she drags herself out of the table, David following suit.

🏒

"Abi?" David lightly shakes her shoulders, but she turns away and hugs her crossed arms closer to her chest. 

She groans, squeezing her eyes closed as tight as she can. "Don't wanna wake up." She relaxes her eyelids a bit, nuzzling into the faux leather seat beneath her.

"Abs, we're here." He palms her scalp, rubbing her hair between his fingers to gather her out of the sleep she's been entranced in from the ride post-restaurant to the airport and the entirety of the flight into Toronto _plus_ the Uber to Patrick's place. 

Voice groggily, Abigail slowly wakes up "Pops?" She rubs her eyes with her hands in fists, looking around until she's met with the sight of Patrick.

"Let's get you out of this car," David picks Abigail up and hands her off to Patrick as he exits the vehicle with their luggage. "Thank you so much for the ride." Their driver salutes him once he shuts the door behind him and they're off without waiting another moment. 

"I actually have a surprise for you," Patrick begins, David's eyebrows furrowing while Abigail's eyes light up with pure excitement and adrenaline. "We're going to go play some hockey!" David's jaw drops and he's probably more ecstatic than Abigail. "Your personalised jersey came today, too, and we have the rink all to ourselves."

David starts moving, hauling their suitcases towards the entrance of his apartment complex. They both had plenty of clothes at Patrick's, but David carried his hair and skincare products with him from location to location. Plus, Abigail couldn't go without the stuffed bee Patrick got her the day they finalized the adoption papers because _she's his little a-bee_ or the quilted blanket David got her for her seventh birthday that was stitched together by Jocelyn after being commissioned by him. "Let's put our stuff down then we can go, okay?"

"But I want to go _now_!" Abby pouts, stomping her foot on the concrete below. 

Patrick sighs, putting out a hand to pat her head after crouching down to her level as David halts his movements. "Just give us ten minutes, alright?"

"Only ten?"

He holds out his pinkie for her to intertwine it with her own which she does without a second thought. "No more," She untangles their fingers and holds out her hand for Patrick to take. David stands next to her free side to embrace her other. "C'mon, ten minutes starts now."

🏒

If you had told David or Patrick that Abigail hadn't slept a wink in thirty hours, they'd believe you without a trace of doubt. The entire thirty minute ride is filled with whines and kicks from the back seat. 

_Are we almost there?_

_Can I put my skates on?_

_Kick._

_How many more minutes?_

_Are we almost there?_

_Kick._

_This jersey is soft._

_Daddy, is it close?_

_Pops, can you drive faster?_

_I don't care if it's "breaking the law"._

_Kick._

_This jersey is still comfy._

_I want ice cream._

_Can we get ice cream?_

_Time?_

_Kick._

_Time?_

_Why is this taking forever?_

_It never takes this long._

_Kick._

_Did you go a different way?_

Patrick shoots David a glare to ask if it's okay for him to discipline her and he squeezes his thigh to say yes.

"Abby, hon, you know I don't like to yell, but we're get there when we get there, okay?" She just crosses her arms and kicks.

She kicks and kicks until David has to turn around and put up a finger. "You can't keep kicking pops' seat while he's driving. Do you know how dangerous that is?"

"I told you I don't care."

David whips his head back to face Patrick. "Should we go back home?" He whispers, louder than usual as it can't be heard over all the ruckus the back of the vehicle. 

"We can't do that, love. I mean, you were even thrilled about this and I am, too. Plus, I haven't seen her in nearly a week and a half. Neither have you! Just... She'll give it up when we arrive, alright?" David sighs back into his seat in defeat.

And, as always, Patrick is right.

Abigail is practically withering with joy as they pull into the parking lot of Ford Performance Centre. He whips a set of keys from one of the venue's janitors, Shawn, out of the pocket of his infamous too-tight Levi's and proceeds to open the heavy set of glass doors. 

"Woah," Abigail has played her fair share of scrimmage games on the ice with her fathers, but she'd never been here before. "It's so... clean."

David laughs, picking her up. "This is where pops practices."

"Really?" Her jaw drops as they continue walking towards the dressing rooms. 

"Yep," Patrick chimes in. "Actually, this is my stall." He points to a large portion of bench sectioned off by wooden partitions with a pair of skates stored beneath with his jersey hanging above. Atop lies his helmet as well as his pair of leg pads which are so ginormous that he has a larger space than the rest of the players to accommodate them. The bench is even cushioned with memory foam pads engraved with the teams' logo. 

"This is where you get ready?" Abigail knows the answer, but she asks it anyway in awe of the space. She's never seen a locker room, either. 

"And hang out during intermission, yes." 

David interjects. "It's less of a hangout and more of a coaching session," Abigail nods, pretending to understand. He can tell she's faking, so he elaborates. "The players are told what they did good and what to improve on for the next period." Her nod is less hesitant this time around. 

"How about we get our skates on and get this show on the road, huh?" Abigail sits on Patrick's lap and David ties on her skates, putting his on afterward at the same time Patrick does once he's child-free. 

🏒

David stands near the bench while he watches Abigail attempt to deke him out for what seems like—and could quite possibly be—the fiftieth time in a row. Newsflash: a professional NHL goalie who's been in the league for ten years since the age of 24 doesn't have a difficult time blocking an eight year old who's only experience is against said NHL goalie and his husband.

Eventually, however, she _does_ manage to outsmart him. 

As if she's being attacked by a defender, Abigail spins around to the left with the puck in between her stick and her right blade. While she's turning back to face Patrick, she quickly skates to the right and backhands it to top shelf. 

"Oh my god," David skates onto the ice as fast as he can to hug her. "I can't believe you did that!" 

"I can't believe you did, either. You're amazing! I knew we raised you right." He gives her a light and friendly punch to the arm.

Abigail just smiles as Patrick tosses the puck back across the ice to her. "I want daddy to play."

David wastes no time on making his way towards centre ice. "I'll let you drop the puck." Abigail hands the black object to David before he drops it in between the two of them. 

He gets possession to nobody's suprise. Even if Abigail herself drops it, she's only managed to gain possession from a face-off _one_ time and that was against Patrick after David insisted they switched roles. 

In order to show off (he _loves_ making his husband jealous of his stick-handing skills, something he lacked being in the net), David toe drags the puck in between his legs, quickly gaining control of it again. Abigail is practically pressed against his back, applying pressure to try and get him to lose authority, but as soon as he straightens out his back and snaps it through his legs, she knows she's toast.

_David Rose is on the breakway. He moves the puck meticulously across the ice, snapping his wrist up as he shoots, but Brewer comes in with the glove save. Nice try, Rose, better luck next time._

David would be upset at himself for not scoring on Patrick if this were any other situation, but there is nothing he loves more that seeing Abigail take after him in the commentary world. There is something so... invigorating about her being as talented on the ice as she is while still having a brain full of knowledge. The balance between the two was one of David's favourite things about her. 

"You heard her, David," He cocks his head to the side at the sound of Patrick's voice. "Better luck next time." Patrick ends with a wink before getting back down in position for another play. 

**Author's Note:**

> if there is a piece of writing i've published to this site that i'm the most proud of, it's hands-down this one, so i hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> thank you for reading as well! you guys know the drill by now, kudos/comments are always appreciated if you feel like dropping some love <3


End file.
